


Float A Mile In My Mindscape

by ToothPasteCanyon (DannyFenton123)



Series: Transcendence AU [4]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Transcendence (Gravity Falls), Demonic Possession, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-08 20:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17988008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DannyFenton123/pseuds/ToothPasteCanyon
Summary: The Pines family gets into some demonic shenanigans. Mabel's going to be devastated if they don't fix this by Christmas.





	1. Chapter 1

                Christmas cards. So many Christmas cards. Henry felt like he was getting letters from Hogwarts with all the mail that was coming in – some of it literally from down the chimney. He’d taken to checking the fireplace before he lit anything, worried he might accidentally use one as kindling.

                They were all sent from Portland. Henry thought that was a really nice gesture after the whole vampire battle thing that freed the city, but this was excessive. He’d already put ten bundles up in the attic, and he was working on an eleventh. Hank could deal with them when he came down to visit.

                Sitting at the table with some string and tape and letters piled high around him, Henry didn’t notice Mabel come in the room. She came up right behind him, and cleared her throat.

                “Can you give us a ride?”

                Henry jumped and messed up his pile. He sighed. “Please don’t scare me like that, honey.”

                “Oh.” She stepped back. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to- um. Yeah. I… yeah.”

                Mabel’s voice trailed off into embarrassed mumbling, and Henry frowned. His wife was many wonderful things, but for better or for worse, ‘embarrassed’ was not one of them.  He turned around.

                It didn’t dawn on him at first. He looked quizzically at her black pants and dress shirt, then up to her hair drawn back into a ponytail, her star earrings and… yellow eyes. Dipper gave him a lopsided grin with Mabel’s mouth, and he raised an eyebrow.

                “Haven’t seen you doing this in a while.” Henry said, eyeing the nail-studded bat Dipper was carrying over his shoulder. Funny how that was almost an insignificant detail to him these days. “I thought you didn’t need Mabel to go cultbashing anymore.”

                Dipper shifted. “I don’t… mostly. But you know the church we were watching in Upside Down Town?”

                There was a pro-nat gathering there, not far from Gravity Falls. Henry nodded.

                “Yeah. Well, their influence has gotten rather… powerful.” He made a face. “I can’t get in by myself anymore. A unicorn herd reported one of their foals missing yesterday and I want to check it out.”

                “And I’m coming with!”

                The sound came from Mabel’s – Dipper’s – backpack. A little sock puppet peeked out from behind his shoulder and jiggled around wildly in a sort of wave.

                “Hi, Henry!” Mabel’s ghostly voice still rang loud enough to make his ears hurt. “Mind giving us a ride? I’d like my body in one piece when we get to the town!”

                “You’re being dramatic, Mabel. I’m not that bad a driver.”

                Both Mabel and Henry stared at him. He frowned.

                “What?” He crossed his arms, creasing Mabel’s face into a pouty expression. “I’m not!”

                Mabel giggled, her googly eyes rattling all over the place. “Remember that time Grunkle Stan tried to take you out for a drive and-“

                “No, we don’t need to bring that up. I already learned my lesson on that one, Mabel – cars don’t like flying.”

                “They don’t like trees, either.”

                “Mabel-!“

                “Alright, alright!” Henry grabbed his keys. “Let’s go, you two.”

                Dipper stalked off, swinging the bat over his shoulder and swatting at Mabel’s sock puppet as she kept talking about his driving skills. Henry felt his smile fade as he followed them out. An axe was sitting by the front door; he leaned down and picked that up.

                It felt right in his hands. Too right – if he gripped it hard enough, it almost felt like his fingers could sink into the wood, and combine. He felt a sudden weight on his head.

                Henry hesitated, and then shook his thoughts clear. He looked down, and noticed the mail slot was stuffed with letters.

                Were those… more postcards? Oh, for god’s sakes-

                “Henry?”

                Mabel’s voice. Henry made a face, and dropped the letters down on the mat. He’d deal with them later. He opened the door, and jogged for the car, the axe gripped tight under his fingers.

                “Coming!”

 

* * *

 

                “You okay?”

                Dipper was leaning over the dashboard, face trying to contorting in an expression no human could possibly make. However, since he was in Mabel’s body, and that was Mabel's face, it could only do its best to approximate.

                Henry shuffled back a little at his wife’s bared teeth and yellow eyes. He’d forgotten how strange this was.

                “Yo, Dipper!” Mabel’s sock puppet floated over and knocked his hat off his head. “You alright?”

                Dipper snarled, but he seemed to come off it as soon as he laid eyes on Henry. He sighed, and sat back to rub his forehead.

                “Sorry.” He mumbled. “Like I said, lots of… lots of influence here.”

                Henry looked over at the church. It _seemed_ normal enough, with a tall spire and just one cross over the entrance. Usually they had to really go overboard with the holy symbols to have any effect on Dipper.

                He frowned. “You sure you want to come in? Mabel and I can probably handle anything-“

                “No.” Dipper gripped the seat. “I… feel something. Something powerful. I-I have to come.”

                Henry didn’t know how it was possible to exchange a worried look with a sock puppet, but he and Mabel managed.

                “Okay.” He hefted his axe. “I’m ready when you are.”

                “Me too, bro bro!”

                Dipper managed a smile at that. He leaned down, and picked up his hat.

                “Alright,” he said. “Let’s go find that unicorn.”

                Demon, sock puppet and Henry piled out of the car. The three of them would be a bizarre sight to anybody looking on; Henry glanced around, but the streets around them were empty, the houses all shut up with their curtains drawn. He frowned.

                Behind him, an argument was stirring.

                “Dipper, no!”

                “Huh?”

                “My arms don’t stretch like that!”

                “Wait, are they not supposed to do the clicking-”

                “ _No_!”

                “Shhhh.” Henry hissed, and the two of them fell silent. “You hear anything?”

                “No.” Mabel tilted her puppet to the side. “Not even birds.”

                He nodded. “That’s what I thought. Weird.”

                They listened a little longer. Eventually, Dipper cleared his throat and stuck a thumb in the direction of the church.

                “Let’s keep going, guys.”

                They advanced on the building, past a line of loose dirt that smelled like garlic. There was probably silver in there too; Henry wrinkled his nose, and he could see Mabel’s puppet mouth crease up as well.

                There was a sign hung over the door: SERVICE IN SESSION, DO NOT ENTER. Dipper smiled, like he thought that was cute. He reached out and grasped one handle; Henry took the other, and they looked at each other.

                “On three.” Henry said.

                “One…”

                “Two-“

                “THREE!” Mabel cried, and they threw the door open.

                The sound of chanting greeted them first, interrupted by their entrance but still echoing down the rows of pews. A figure stood in front of the altar next to the unmistakable shape of a little white unicorn. Her horn hadn’t quite grown in, but at the sight of them she reared up and kicked against the rope around her neck.

                _There you are_! Her mental voice made Henry cringe. _You’re late! Look at this, this stupid little human nearly sacrificed me! You guys call yourself cultbashers? This is terrible service, I say! You’ll be hearing from my_ _mom!_

                Dipper seemed to pay her no mind. Stepping forwards, he pointed his bat at the figure next to the unicorn. He spoke through clenched teeth, letting Mabel’s voice crackle with demonic reverb.

                “D̴̙̤̖̠͉͓̗r̵̪op͕.̜̩̮ ͚͙͚̬̯̠̦͝T͉͢h͏̘̜̟̩̘̙͍ę ̯̼͖͕͡ͅk̶n̫̪͎͈͖̳͞i̠͝f͇͍̟̟̙e̴͚.͙͔̼͔̦"

                The congregation backed away as he walked forwards, but the figure stayed perfectly still. Something in its hand flashed.

                “Don’t make me take it from you.” Dipper warned. Henry was tall, but Dipper seemed to walk unnaturally fast; he had to jog to keep up. “You have n̳o͏̤̭ i͔̱̹̘d̹͜e̞͍͡ḁ̻̦̜̫͉͢ what you’re messing with.”

                They were at the steps of the altar, and still the figure made no movement. It was creeping Henry out, and he could see Dipper slow down too, his eyes narrowed as he looked for some sort of trap or summoning circle.

                The unicorn was right there. She was snorting and straining against the rope; Henry reached her, and put a hand on her neck.

                She gave a shrill whinny at that. _Don’t touch me, human! I don’t know where you’ve been!_

                “I’m just trying to untie you.”

                _Oh. Well… make it quick_.

                Henry started to tug at the knot, but before he got far, there was a scream.

                Mabel’s scream. Henry jerked up- there was a flash right by his ear, and-

 _NO! NO NO NO NO HELP_ -

                Panic flooded his mind. He could feel something wet on his shoulder. It was silver – unicorn’s blood.

                Shit.

                That was all he could think before a hoof came up and kicked him right in the face. One moment he was upright, the next he was crumpled on the stairs, clutching his head, stars glistering across his vision.

                “Henry!”

                “Mabel…?”

                Mabel’s sock puppet was grabbing at his shirt. “Ohmigosh, are you okay? You’re bleeding!”

                “I’m okay. I think.” He grappled for his axe. “Dipper…”

                “You’ve got to help him!” Panic was thick in Mabel’s voice. “It’s an angel!”

                An angel? Henry couldn’t think through the throbbing in his skull, but he looked up and saw Mabel’s body lying still and spreadeagled across the altar; the bat was nowhere to be seen. The figure was standing above them, one hand slathered in silvery blood, the other brandishing a knife.

                It smeared the blood in a cross shape, down Mabel’s face and then across her shoulders. Next, it uttered something completely unintelligible to his human ears, and raised the blade.

                Henry didn’t need to think to know he had to _do something_. He surged forwards, feeling a strength building in him like cold fire, feeling his hand grip the axe until he wasn’t sure where he ended and it began, running up the steps two, three, then four at a time-

                He tackled the figure. It was deceptively strong, and where a mere human would be thrown against the far wall, it only stumbled back. It looked up at him, and he could see its eyes, its eyes…

                Pure white. Their stare was blinding, and Henry felt a rush of fear at the sheer power within them. But he could see it look him up and down, and strangely enough, there was fear rushing through it as well.

                “Unholy monster,” it breathed, taking a step back, its terrible eyes widening until they were sure to pop out, its mouth opening until Henry could see its uvula hanging down the back of its throat. It dropped the knife with a clatter. “Beast. Mortal demon. Antlered One. How... how is this possible?”

                It hit the wall, and gave a shriek that shattered every window in the church. Its body went rigid - there was a flash of brilliant light, and Henry covered his eyes.

                Silence. When he opened them again, he could see the figure crumpled down on the floor.

                Henry reached down, and picked him up like he weighed no more than a Christmas card.

                “Wha…?” The man blinked his eyes open. Normal eyes, this time. They fixed on Henry's face, traveled a little further up, and widened. “Oh, dear god. What are you? Please don’t hurt me, I-I’m just a priest! Have mercy!”

                All around, he could hear moans and screams. The congregation, once silent, was now backing up and running for the front door. A few of them stepped forwards and approached the unicorn, untying their jackets and stuffing them over the stab wound. Mabel’s body stirred, groaning and dragging a hand down her face.

                Henry turned back to the priest. He breathed deeply, and let the fire seep out of his bones. He shrank down, the weight of the antlers disappearing, the man getting heavier and heavier in his grip until he had to let him go. He did so with a grunt, and watched the priest back away and run screaming for the exit.

                Everything hurt, especially his head. He had to sit down. He curled up against the wall, resting his brow against his arms, and sat there for a while.

                There was a hand on his shoulder.

                “You okay, man?”

                Mabel’s voice. Henry grunted. “I’ll be alright. Horse… kicked… I should go to the hospital.”

                “Yeah. We’ll do that.”

                “How are you?” He asked. “That thing had you up by the altar... what was it trying to do?”

                “I don’t know. I’m trying to find out, but it’s hard in this body.”

                This body…? Oh, Henry thought. He was probably still talking to Dipper.

                “I should probably give it back. Mabel?”

                “Hey, bro. You need to heal the unicorn – I don’t think she’s gonna last until the ambulance gets here.”

                “Okay. I’ll do that, once I…” A pause. “Once I… What?”

                “Dipper?”

                “Once I… argh! What’s happening?”

                Henry risked a look up. Through the blinding lights and he pounding of his head, he could see Dipper’s face contorted in a scowl, his fingers tipped with sparkling nail polish digging into his palm.

                Mabel’s sock puppet floated closer. “What’s wrong, bro?”

                “I can’t…” Dipper started. He looked up, and when his yellow eyes locked onto Mabel’s, there was a panic gleaming in them. “I can’t get out of your body.”


	2. Chapter 2

                “I can’t get out of your body.”

                Mabel didn’t quite understand at first. She floated there, staring at her own face as it twisted into a panic she was feeling only distantly. She tried to laugh it off.

                “You serious?”

                “I am completely serious.” Dipper lifted her arm up and brushed her face. Her hand came away coated in a silvery substance; he rubbed it between her fingers. “Unicorn blood. Naturally binding properties, but it’s not strong enough to trap me like this. How…?”

                “Dipper.” Mabel cut in. “The unicorn.”

                She was lying by the altar, her blood dribbling down the steps. Dipper saw this and nodded, with her head.

                “Right.” He said. “We’ll figure this out back at the Shack. You look after Henry.”

                Dipper jogged off (with her body; she wasn’t sure why this was bothering her all of a sudden) and Mabel knelt down next to her husband. Well, tried to kneel down - it was hard to do that when her knees phased through the floor.

                “Henry?” She touched his shoulder with the sock puppet. “How’re you holding up, babe?”

                He just groaned. There was a deep, angry gash right by his temple from where the unicorn kicked him. Mabel scowled; just a little over, and she could’ve easily taken out his eye.

                She pressed her sock puppet to the bleeding. “What a jerk.” She huffed. “Out of everyone in the church, she decides to kick the guy untying her? Unicorns, man.”

                There was a muffled snort. “Heh. Yeah…”

                He sagged to the side; Mabel stiffened as his head passed through hers, giving her a glimpse at the back of his teeth before she could heave him upright again. She shuddered - what a  _weird_ perspective.

                “Hey, hey! Don’t you go sleeping now, Henry.”

                “Mmmmph.”

                “I will start singing Straight Blanchin’ if you don’t open those eyes. I’m prepared to make that sacrifice.”

                “Nooo…”

                “Hah! You can already hear it in your head, can’t you?”

                “Ugh, such a stupid song.”

                He started smiling, though, and Mabel smiled back. She reached around for a hug.

Her arm passed though. The smile went as fast as it came, and she sighed.

                “C’mon,” she cupped his cheek with her sock puppet. “Thanks for saving us, doofus. Now I gotta save you from the sleeps.”

                Henry leaned into her hand, and Mabel floated there, listening for sirens.

 

* * *

 

                “So, uh, hi, Grunkle Stan.”

                “Hey, kid. Which jail is it?”

                “What?” Mabel laughed. “No, no, we didn’t stick around for the cops.”

                Next to her, Dipper huffed. “Why does he think we’re in jail? Grunkle Stan, why do you always think we’re calling you to bail us out of jail?”

                “Cause most of the time you are.”

                “What? No, that's not true!”

                “It kinda is.”

                “Mabel, don’t take his side!”

                Grunkle Stan cackled. “Pair of troublemakers, you two. What've you blown up this time?”

                “Well, we’re just driving back from the hospital.” Mabel cringed as her brother hooked a left. “Dipper’s driving, and-“

                “You let Dipper drive? You got a death wish. Don’t you remember when I tried to teach him and-“

                She cut in. “Yes, yes. Um, so we were cultbashing, and Henry got kicked in the face by a unicorn, and- Dipper, red light! Red light!”

                “I know, Mabel!”

                “Sheesh.” She could almost see the face Stan was making on the other end. “He okay?”

                “He’s fine. He’s gonna have to spend the night, though, and wear a really silly neck brace.” Mabel tried for a laugh. “I got Dipper to take some pictures. He looks like a turtle, haha! Yeah…”

                Grunkle Stan didn’t join in. “What’s wrong, pumpkin?”

                Dammit. He was onto her.

                “Whaaat? Nothing’s wrong, nothing’s… what makes you say that?”

                “Probably the thing that’s wrong.” He deadpanned. “And your voice sounds a little weird too, a little muffled. What’s going on?”

                Mabel stared at the sock puppet she was holding the phone with. She sighed.

                “Uh, it’s probably easier to tell you in person.”

                “You two are okay, though?”

                “Yeah. Yeah, no, we’re okay.”

                “Okay, then.” His gruff voice softened a little bit. “Get home safe.”

                “We will.” She felt the car lurch to the side. “We’ll, try anyway.”

                Dipper shot her a look. “Hey!”

                “Eyes on the road!”

                “I did have eyes on the road! I can see everything, Mabel, I don’t need your human ones for that!”

                Grunkle Stan chuckled. “Nice knowing you, Mabel.”

                “You too, Grunkle Stan. We had a good run.”

                “For the last time, I’m not gonna-!” Dipper huffed a sigh, and took the phone. “Well, we’re about a half hour out. You think you could look around the Library for some books on unicorn blood and angels?”

                Mabel couldn’t hear his reply, but Dipper let out a short laugh at his words.

                “Yeah, we’ve had a, uh, interesting day. Yeah. Will do. Thanks. Bye, Grunkle Stan.”

                “YOU’RE THE BEST GRUNKLE EVER I LOVE YOU SEE YOU SOON!”

                Dipper cringed. “Mabel says bye too. Okay, see you soon.”

                He clicked off, and put it down in the cup holder. Mabel picked it up and turned it on, only to be greeted by her password. The puppet's cloth didn't let her type it in, and she frowned.

                “This sounds crazy, but I miiight be getting a bit tired of being a sock puppet.”

                Dipper laughed a little. “Your body’s exhausted. I might be getting a bit tired of being a human.”

                “You still can’t get out?”

                “No.”  He looked at her, and there was a sudden seriousness in his yellow eyes. “If I could give it back, I swear I would.”

                “I know, bro.” This just-” She slumped back, only to yelp and phase through the chair. Dipper’s arm shot out and pulled her up her before she tumbled right out of the car. “Thanks for the save, bro, bro. Yeah, this just sucks.”

                He turned back to the front. “It does,” He said, and gripped the steering wheel.

                Mabel could see him squeeze every one of her fingers; her pinkie’s knuckle went white, and relaxed, then her ring finger, then her middle, then her pointer. She could see the little grin that crept up her own face, and she wondered if her smiles had always looked that creepy.

                “Yeah,” Dipper said, echoing her words. “This sucks." 

 

* * *

 

                You know what the best thing about being an artist was? No boss! Did she want to take off work for a couple weeks and go chill at her Mom’s house? She could! Who’s gonna tell her no?

                (Reina, actually. But she wasn’t in tax season and had some vacation stored up, so all she had to do was let her boss know ahead of time and she was good.)

                Complete freedom. Acacia was sprawled out on the bed, taking complete advantage of that when there was a shout from downstairs.

                “Kid!” Grunkle Stan’s voice really carried across the house. Acacia groaned, and rolled closer to her wife. “Kid, are you awake?”

                “I am now,” she muttered. She sat up. “What is it, Grunkle Stan?”

                “What?”

                “I said, what is it, Grunkle Stan?”

                A pause. “Whaaat?”

                “Oh, my staaars, I said-“

                 “Just go downstairs, Acacia.” Reina cut in, not opening her eyes. “Go see what he wants.”

                “Oh, sorry! I mean, _sorry_.”

                She gave a sleepy snort. “Just don’t slam the door on your way out.”

                “I’ll try not to, Rein. No promises.”

                Acacia eased the door open, careful not to let it creak. She shut it just as gently, and made her way downstairs. Grunkle Stan was waiting at the base, tapping his fingers on the arm of his wheelchair.

                “Finally.” He grunted. “You saving the world up there or something?”

                “No, but I was sleeping. What do you need?”

                “Up for some library work? Looking for books on either unicorn blood or angels; I’ll pay you a hundred cents an hour.”

                Acacia’s eyebrows drooped. “A hundred cents an hour? You mean a dollar?”

                “Shut your yap and get over to the shelves.”

                He waved his cane at her, and she chuckled. “Alright, alright, I’m going. Boy, sure can’t wait for that hundred cent an hour paycheck!”

                “And you’ll be lucky you get that much, too.”

                Walking up to the desk, Acacia saw the searchpage already up, and several books stacked on the counter. She picked up the top one, frowning as she read, ‘ _The Forbidden Properties of Unicorn Blood by Dr Stanford Pines_ ’.

                “Unicorn blood, huh?” She turned that frown on him. “What’s, uh, what’s the sudden interest?”

                Stan shrugged. “Beats me. Your uncle wanted me to look it up.”

                “Dipper? Where is he?”

                “With your mom. They’re coming back from a, uh, cultbashing.”

                “Ah.”

                “Apparently your dad took a beatin’ from some unicorn; he’s laid up in the hospital.”

                Acacia froze, her hand on the mouse. “What.”

                “Yeah. They’re saying he’ll be fine..." He suddenly grimaced. "But, ah, from the look on your face, he’s a dead man walking.”

                “Dad’s in the _hospital_?!” She whipped out her phone. “Nobody told me that! I haven’t got any messages – what happened? What hospital is he staying at? Argh, Mom-“

                “Kid, slow down. I just got the message, like, ten minutes ago. They’re coming straight home; obviously they’re not planning to hide it from you or nothing.”

                “No,” she growled. “But still!”

                “Hey, hey.” Stan patted her shoulder. “Yell at them later. For now we need some books on unicorns and angels.” He gave a chuckle. “Unicorns and angels. Jeez, next they’re gonna ask me to find the ‘rainbows and puppy dogs’ section.”

                Acacia sighed, and headed over to the shelves. She hooked her foot under a stool and dragged it over to a spot. There were several books on angels up on the top shelf.

                “Alright.” She heaved a dusty tome out of its place. “Uncle Dipper’ll… zip through this one in no time… hooh. How is that shelf staying up?”

                “Beats me, kid. Some of these real nerdy books’d probably kill you if they fell on you.”

                “Yeah!” The whole desk shuddered as she dropped it off. “That one could definitely break a neck. Hey, I know what I’m bringing to the next cultbashing session!”

                “Atta girl.”

                She shoved it so it wasn’t hanging off the edge. “Maybe they’ll actually bring me along this time. ‘Hey, Acacia, we’re doing this super dangerous thing. You wanna maybe help?’ Noo, they’re not even gonna tell me when they get bashed by a unicorn.”

                Stan watched her as she stalked back to the shelves, his lips pressed together. She kept talking, to nobody in particular.

                “I mean, I get it, it just happened, they probably weren’t thinking.” She got up on another stool, and took two books off the shelf. “But I hate it when, like, we’re facetiming and it’s ‘ohhh, Mom’s in a cast? Yeah, she just a bit scratched up from that huge cultist ring we crashed a few weeks ago.’ Like, why don’t you just tell me that stuff when it happens and not whenever I see you next? Is that really such a big ask?”

                Stan sighed. “They probably just don’t want you to worry, Ac-“

                “And I know they don’t! But hey, guess what, I worry anyway. I dunno, it’s like I care about them or something. That’s what you do for family, right?” She slammed the books down on the table and clapped the dust off her hands. “Cultbashing is dangerous, and shit just happens sometimes, you know?”

                “Ahh, they’ll be fine. They’ve been doing this for ages.”

                “I know. And I used to never really think about it, but… it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been doing something.” She reached up to rub her face, and her hand brushed over her eyepatch. She sighed. “Shit happens.”

                Acacia hesitated a moment longer, and then turned around to the bookshelves again. There, she nearly ran into Stan, who had wheeled himself right into her path.

                “Oop. Hi.” She stumbled back. “You are right in my way there.”

                Stan wasn’t quite looking her in the eye. “Kid…” He started, and Acacia felt like the biggest jerk in the world.

                “It’s okay, Grunkle Stan. We’ve been over this before; it’s not your fault.”

                “But it is. They never would’ve gone after you if-“

                “And lots of things never would’ve happened if we did anything differently! Look, it doesn’t matter, okay?” She shook her head. “It just happened and it was dumb I don’t wanna throw around the blame for it. I just wanna move on, okay?”

                Stan had that deliberately blank expression on his face, the kind he got when he was thinking very hard about what to say next. He opened his mouth… and then closed it, and settled on a smile.

                “Okay, kid.”

                “Okay, like you’re going to stop having that kicked-puppy expression every time it comes up?”

                “Hah. I’ll certainly try, kid.” He looked away. “I’m… I guess I just get… worried about you, too. Not that I need to; Mabel and Henry, they raised you three up good. But, uh…”

                “That’s what you do for family,” She finished.

                “Right. And, uh… it’s a good family, too.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, how many books you think your uncle needs? We got a good sized pile there, and-“

                Acacia stepped forwards and wrapped him in a hug. He stiffened at first, but then he hugged back.

                “I love you.”

                “I, uh, I care about you too.” A pause. “I love you too. Is what I meant.”

                She smiled, and let go, turning back to the pile.

                “Yeah, that’s a lot of books. I think we’re good.” Acacia crossed her arms. “So, where’s my hundred cents?”

                “I thought you’d forgotten about that.”

                “What? Never! I was gonna buy half a Pitt Cola with that!”

                Stan chuckled and reached in his pocket. “Alright, alright. Bleedin’ me dry, you… hey, where’s my wallet?”

                With an evil grin, Acacia held up a fat leather pocketbook. “Looking for this?”

                “Oh, you are good.” He snatched it from her. “I take it back about your parents. They raised a kid who’d steal from a poor, helpless old man.”

                “Helpless. Hah, good one.”

                Grunkle Stan shook his head as he sorted through his wallet. Finally he pulled out a dollar bill, and offered it to her.

                She took it. “Thank you very kindly. Hey, you wanna share a Pitt Cola while we wait for the cavalry to get back?”

                Stan’s grin was wide, and genuine. “Sounds like a plan, kiddo.”


End file.
